Page 38 of Until He Scores

“I want to fuck you, Thierry. I want to know what it feels like, even if it’s only once.” The words tumbled from me. I could blame the fact so much pleasure bombarded my system, I short-circuited and couldn’t control what I said. However, that would be a lie.

“Of all the times not to have lube,” he muttered, his cheeks, chest and throat all the same shade of pink. “I’d let you. I’m so fucking turned on.”

So was I.

We continued to fuck his palm. When I retreated, he pushed forward adding another layer of stimulation. My breath left me in soft pants. My heart felt like it was about to beat out of my chest. The blunt tips of his fingernails dug into my shoulder adding to the moment. A shudder worked through me, and I could feel the tingle of my impending climax spreading through my belly and into my balls.

“Gonna cum,” I grunted eager for that first second when I climaxed, and everything melted away. Only this time, I was taking Thierry with me.

“Same,” he answered on a pant. “Oh fuck. Oh shit.” The harsh, deep groan he let loose with, tugged me over the edge.

My cock jerked in his hand while his did the same. Warmth covered my shaft while I continued to throb through my orgasm. It felt so good, but at the same time, not enough. I wanted to do more, but what more entailed and if Thierry was being honest about wanting to have sex with me too, depended on him.

Right now, I savored every second of this uncomplicated moment.

Thierry raised his hand. White cum slid down his fingers. He licked a finger clean then groaned. The imagery was hot. My dick gave an appreciative jerk, staying hard. Then he painted my bottom lip with our combined releases.

“Taste us.”

This was a deeper connection than just jerking each other off. He watched me, waiting, I supposed, for a sign showing whether I was serious or just using him. I ran my tongue over my bottom lip gathering up our releases on my tongue. A moan filled my throat. It wasn’t awful, just different. Salty with a spicy uniqueness. I licked my bottom lip again, uncaring of who knew what I was doing.

“Thank you, Pope,” Thierry whispered. “That was amazing.”

“Yes, it was.” I grinned. “You’re welcome and thank you for trusting me.”

Chapter 15

Thierry

Iran away. Full-on made a mad dash for the door and never looked back. The emotional overload coursing through my body made me an irrational mess. I couldn’t think straight, let alone wake up one more time in Pope’s arms. Being there with him brought back all those old feelings I’d spent years trying to shove into a box, ramming them so deep into the pits of my soul, I’d never be able to retrieve them.

Stupid me.

The minute I kissed him again, everything welled up inside of me. The fact we’d engaged in a hungover jerk session while in Pope’s bed should have thrown up all kinds of red flags for me. Instead, I sank into the sensations, smitten and accepted by the one person I’d loved for years. He said to give him time. To allow him to figure out what he wanted. Well, we went from baby steps to running in a matter of four hours.

Still, I obliged while also keeping a healthy arm’s length from him.

I wouldn’t allow myself to plummet into the same pitfalls again.

Then, two hours after I left, a text popped up on my phone. Derrick wanted to talk. I’d said everything that needed to be saidto him. Being accused of abuse and cheating when it’d been him gave him zero right to ask for anything from me.

Narcissist: Come on, baby. Answer my texts. I know you miss me. I’d miss me too.

Sounded more like he’d gotten dumped by his boy-toy, and he needed some place to stay. Too bad for him. I moved back to Murfreesboro. That house we shared with the decorative touches that made the place a home? Gone. I threw it away. I couldn’t stand having the reminder of him in my house. Not after what he’d done to me.

I should’ve blocked his number rather than answer him. Stupid was my middle name. I don’t know why I answered the damn text. Blaming moments of weakness or confusion after my night with Pope was an excuse. What I got for my idiocy was a paparazzi ambush, with Derrick clinging to me worse than clothes from a static-filled dryer.

Crueler? I knew Pope would see the pictures.

What’s more fucked up? Derrick started showing up atMountaineergames wearing myThunderbirdssweater.

I had no clue what to do to fix the mess I made. No way in hell Pope would believe me if I told him the whole thing had been a setup. He’d think I was lying to cover up, leaving him after the best orgasm either of us experienced. So, I did what I’d always done best.

I stayed away.

That’d been two weeks ago. The emotional wounds that never seemed to heal properly, was tucked away, hiding my shame and uneasiness from everyone. In my drunken stupor, I mistakenly allowed a small glimpse of my issues to rear their ugly head. I’d never allow that to happen again. As for Pope... I didn’t have the guts to call him, and he didn’t talk to me. Yep,best solution for both of us. At least I got a glimpse of our future if only I’d been stronger. I should’ve been happy I had him for a night.

That was a lie.

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